Somewhere Beyond the Stars

Well I hate transitions. But they are necessary in life for growth. But oh...they feel so bad. The days become murky, the nights become fitful and shadowy, the joy is subdued if at all. Transitions. But light feels like life and hope is like medicine and a word from God feels like a life saver in an ocean storm. But my friends, did not the disciples experience this wave tossing also? I am afraid our lives must go through the swirling torrents to be made into five smooth stones.

But I have always experienced the depths of the ocean with a friendly face...my friend...who has gone on to the crystal sea and sees the four terrible beasts who stand before the throne. H. is hidden beneath the altar since he has no body yet. He is a spirit, no he is a soul who is delighting in the warmth of the bridegroom's embrace.

By the way, the "four terrible beasts" is a terrible translation. It should be "four awesome beings." These "beings" have consciousness and speak. I don't think they are merely symbols. I wish I could see the emerald rainbow. In fact, my next blog will be named that. What do you suppose that means? Can you guess?

I also wonder if Hans is with family? Scripture often says "And he was gathered up to his forefathers." It sounds wonderful to have family embrace your arrival. Hans so often prayed with Anne, his sister, before her death, they have no doubt embraced that the wilderness experience is over for them.

It reminds me of a 50 miles walk I took once. During the Kennedy Administration, he encouraged sports and excercise. The whole nation started walking. I, along with 40 other kids, walked from White Sands Missile Range to El Paso. After 10 miles I was in torment. After 20 I thought I was going to die on the side of the road. After 30 I no longer spoke. No one did. Even the kids who took off running were back with the slowpokes. After 40 miles, I prayed in tongues. At the 49th mile I quit. I could see the green steeple at the Northgate Shopping Center where the television crews were waiting. But I was finished. I could not walk one more mile. I quit. The van picked me up and returned to the base. In riding back to the base, deeply discouraged and ashamed, I fell asleep. They took me right to my house where my parents were waiting for me. When I woke up, I had tears in my eyes. To this day, I don't remember crying in my sleep, so I think that I must have teared up when I saw my house. The experience of suffering was over and my feet were to be wrapped and soaked in healing balm.

It must be so with those who die and return to the bosom of the Father. The tear wiped away from the journey of pain. The pain of insecurity, self doubt, confusion, shame, fears, betrayal, abandonment, war and trauma. We do not feel the weight of sorrow because we have grown used to the burden. But in heaven it is like floating on a sea of salt...you feel for the first time, the incredible lightness of being.

That is what prayer does for me. It gives me a foretaste of rest, of freedom from self condemnation and false expectations and I can just be a child again.

I am SO HAPPY for Hans that he is delighting in God today. You know how child like he could be when he was happy, as all of us are. So my beloved sings somewhere beyond the stars and I am so very grateful to God that he has been swept out of this terrible sea of the human experience.